Much Ado About Something
by rhapsodybree
Summary: A snapshot set in the future at yet another wedding. Beatrice/Benedick family moments. Follows the Shakespeare Retold version of "Much Ado About Nothing".


Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

* * *

Moving as conspicuously as possible, baby Emery in her arms, Beatrice Taylor shuffled down the pew and took her seat once again. "What did I miss?" she asked of the man next to her, leaning in to whisper into his ear.

Benedick Taylor placed a hand on his wife's knee, his own lap full of a red haired toddler, Bonnie immersed in her padded book, as he replied. "They're saying the vows."

"Still?!" asked Bea incredulously, just a little too loud and in a sudden lull of declarations. When the person behind her expressed their annoyance, she happily ignored them, but dropped her voice nevertheless.

Meanwhile, standing next to the bride and groom, Darcy Taylor was growing, quite frankly, bored.

Looking up at the blonde haired lady and the dark haired man, the three year old saw nothing interesting. Her rose petals were all gone and she plonked the basket on the ground, the padded bottom making no noise.

Spotting a loose thread on the bottom of her pale pink flower girl dress, the eldest child of Ben and Bea did what any curious child would and pulled at it. Her interest piqued, the auburn haired child continued to tug.

One unfortunate consequence of such an activity unravelling the thread was that she was twirling in circles trying to follows its path, her skirt flaring up at times to reveal her flowery underpants.

Engrossed as she was, she never saw her mother trying to get her attention. It was only when her bent over father edged forward and snatched her into his grasp that she realised she was now the centre of attention.

She saw everyone looking at her then and buried her face into her father's neck as he took their front row seat once again.

Beatrice mouthed her apology to her friend, but the one good thing to come from the impromptu Taylor show was that the blonde woman was shaken from her rather long declaration of love and turned to the priest once again.

Father Alcock smiled thankfully, holding his book up high. "Do you Hero Armitage take this man to be your wedded husband?"

"I do."

"And do you Claude Bouvier take this woman to be your wedded wife?"

There was a collective holding of breaths, Beatrice leaning forward and almost squashing her toddler as the congregation waited for his answer.

"I do."

Cue the collective sigh and sudden applause when the newlyweds finally kissed as man and wife.

* * *

Standing out the front of the church shortly after, Benedick rocked the pram where baby Emery was sound asleep as he loosened his tie. Beatrice stood close by with a cranky Bonnie on her hip. Both Taylors were talking animatedly to Peter as Darcy skipped and jumped, still intent on that troublesome thread.

The happy group all turned when the bride and groom made their way over.

"Congratulations!" cried Beatrice, leaning forward to hug both in turn. Overtired Bonnie burrowed further into her mother's neck, her arms tight around Bea's neck as she refused to interact with anyone.

And thus, Darcy was the only Taylor chid free for Hero to gush over. "And you did a fantastic job!" said the new Mrs Bouvier, picking up and hugging her goddaughter tight. "You are the prettiest flower girl I have ever seen!"

The three year old grinned widely, bracing herself on her godmother's shoulders as she eased back. "Where's the cake?"

It was a merry parade down the path as all made for their modes of transport to move onto the reception. Darcy was now riding on top of the pram, her legs knocking her father's every so often as she slouched and looked around at the small crowd.

Darcy didn't get a piece of the much longed for cake that night, but after a promise that they would save her some to eat the next day and a dance in her father's arms, Darcy Taylor was for bed under the watchful eye of a babysitter.

Gloriously children-free, Beatrice sat on Benedick's lap as the party stretched into the wee hours of the morning. Ben held his wife close, his hand splayed on her upper thigh as her arm wrapped around his shoulder. Bea sipped her one glass of red wine as an impromptu toast arose amongst the old crowd at _Wessex Tonight_.

"To the newlyweds!"

* * *

_Finito. _


End file.
